A Reversal of Fortune
by RiverChild7
Summary: Harry's the lonely orphan and Ginny's the youngest of seven...right? What if Molly and Arthur Weasley were the ones that died to save their child? What if Ginny was the Girl Who Lived, and Harry was just a boy? How would that affect them? AU.
1. Chapter 1

-1**Chapter One: A Different Sort Of Lucky **

"Virginia! Virginia! Get up right now!"

"My name's _Ginevra_," called the tousled redhead sleepily, the barest trace of indignation on the edge of her voice.

"Her name's _Ginevra,_" mimicked Minnie, like this was the most hilarious thing in the world.

"Shut it, you cow," snapped Ginny, scrounging around on the floor for her dress. Kayla, the washerwoman, had done the laundry the night before. She never quite got around to folding them, though, so the shapeless gray dresses lay in a heap on the floor.

At last Ginny found the dress (if you could call it that) that read _Virginia Weasley_ on the tag, even though she had told them a million and a half times her name was Ginevra. Actually, she wasn't even quite sure of this, but she figured her parents wouldn't have been stupid enough to name their daughter after an American state, when they lived in England.

Besides, she had had the dream last night, the one with the green light and the voice screaming, "Get Ginevra and run!" She had this dream often, and she never quite understood it, but it left her with an unshakable belief in her name.

Tossing on her dress and shoes, she headed out the door, where they promptly formed a line, shortest to tallest. Ginny was last; even six-year-old Mack McThomspon was ahead of her.

Standing on her tiptoes, she attempted to peer over the other children's heads and see what they were having for breakfast.

"It's eggs," said the girl in front of her, Indira. "Cook told me."

"Oh," said Ginny. "Thanks…"

"Maybe if you'd have been awake you would have known that," said Minnie snottily from six places ahead. Minnie was not the most attractive person in the world; indeed, she reminded many people of a beached whale. Extraordinary fat, with blotchy, pink skin, she had small, piggish eyes, and her dark braids were pulled so tight they made her eyes bulge.

"Shut _up_," Ginny repeated tiredly, as Miss Royer passed by.

"No talking in the lunch line," said Miss Royer coldly. "I thought you would have known that by now, Miss Virginia."

Ginny bit her tongue. _You're lucky_, she told herself. Indira had told her horror stories of the orphanage she had been in before this one. They had starved the children, beaten them, and no one even noticed until two orphans died suddenly.

In Saint Mary's Orphanage, they didn't have it _that_ bad, Ginny thought fiercely. The orphans were fed regularly, the food was decent, they went to school, had beds and clothes. No one had ever laid a hand on her. _Not even for a hug_, thought Ginny bitterly, and then shushed herself mentally.

Ahead, Minnie was saying something. "….poor thing. At least my parents wanted _me_."

"What are you talking about?" asked Ginny coldly, and the line of girls stepped back a bit, so the two could see each other.

"Well," said Minnie with deliberate, careful slowness, "I was just saying that _I'm_ here because my parents died. _They_ wanted me, you see…"

"What are you getting at?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious your parents aren't dead. I heard Miss Royer talking about it the other day, you know. Apparently, your mother and father-well, your mother was a bit, how shall I say it…_loose_ and they weren't quite married and your parents really didn't want to take care of-"

"Take it back!" snarled Ginny, advancing on the larger girl furiously. "That's a lie-you're a dirty, despicable _liar_, Minnie Thomson! My parents loved me!"

"I don't blame them. If I had a child like you I would have abandoned her, too," said Minnie, and then she didn't say anything, because Ginny had punched her smug little face.

Minnie went reeling backwards, screaming, and then grabbed Ginny's long red hair and yanked it down hard. Ginny brought her hands up to Minnie's face and scratched her cheek, kicking her at the same time-Minnie let out a roar like the town drunk and the girls went crashing to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, kicking, spitting, screaming, pulling, punching-

"Miss Weasley! Miss Thomson!" screamed Miss Royer, wading in, and grabbing Ginny's elbow, yanking her out of the fray. "What is going on here?"

Minnie immediately burst into tears, and it made a spectacular sight-the large girl, tears flooding down her scratched and bloody face, the startings of a bruise imprinted on her cheekbone. "S-she _hit_ me," Minnie hiccupped. "I w-w-as just-just _trying_ to be n-nice and…" The rest was drowned out in a great wail as Minnie covered her face with her hands.

"_Miss Weasley!"_

"Miss Royer, it isn't true at all, I swear, she started it!"

Miss Royer looked at Ginny's unbruised, unscratched face. "Miss Weasley, why is it that you have absolutely no bruises? Look at the damage you have inflicted on Miss Thompson! I tend to believe, Weasley, the person who is heavily injured! It's fairly obvious you started this fight! The punishment room, Weasley-no, don't contradict me-" Miss Royer snapped, grabbing Ginny's arm and dragging her across the hallways.

"But Miss Royer-"

"_This is the last I will hear of this incident, Virginia Weasley_," Miss Royer hissed as she shoved Ginny inside the door. "I will not tolerate trouble-makers!"

"But-"

Ginny slumped on the bed as the door slammed shut with a _bang_ of finality. She didn't have to look around to see her surroundings; she knew them well enough. The pale, pale blue walls and the white bed in the middle of it were always the same. There were no windows and the off-white door locked and opened from the outside.

_At least there's a bed_, thought Ginny. "You're lucky," she whispered to herself, and only wished she could make herself believe it.

"Harry James Potter, get up this _instant_!"

"Mum," he groaned, but his mother cut him off.

"_Right now_," she said dangerously soft, and Harry leaped out of bed. He loved his mother, but none of the Potter siblings were stupid enough to cross Lily Potter when she was in a foul mood.

"Yes, mum," he said, and as soon as she left he started grabbing a pair of trousers. No sooner than half a second later, his door was opened.

"Oi! I'm _dressing!_" said Harry, clad only in a pair of boxers.

The two boys sauntered in anyway. They, like Harry, had black hair, but their eyes were hazel instead of green. The oldest smirked. "Did wee little Harrikins get in trouble?" he said in a baby voice.

"Shut it, James," Harry snapped at his seventeen-year-old brother.

"Oh, we're scared, aren't we?" said the second, widening his eyes dramatically and pretending to stagger. "Harry's going to give us a beating, James, we better run!"

"Ben! James! Leave Harry alone," said an angry voice from the doorway. Harry looked up and there was Sara, his second eldest sister. Fifteen and terminally hormonal, Sara often shifted from Harry's protector to a complete psycho. She stood in the doorway, wearing a tiny T-shirt and a short pair of boxers.

"You're one to talk, Sara!" returned James witheringly. "We all know you're wearing that 'cuz Mickey Black's coming over!"Sara flushed a deep red and scowled. "That has nothing to do with Harry! Just stop picking on him!"

"Will you all get out of my room?" snapped Harry irritably, herding all three out. Being the youngest of seven had its disadvantages….namely, having to put up with six older, bickering, bullying siblings. _Well, four now,_ he corrected himself as he threw on a shirt. His two oldest siblings, twenty one year old Chris and eighteen-year-old Meggie, had gone on to their careers (a Curse Breaker and an Unspeakable, respectively). That left James, Ben, Sara, Grace, and Harry at home, and this year Grace and Harry would be leaving for school as well.

Grace was the eldest of the pair, but they would be attending Hogwarts the same year, as Grace was born in January, after the birthday cutoff. Harry was born the following July, three months premature. This accounted for his slight, scrawny stature, but it didn't annoy him any less.

Harry threw on a pair of trainers and headed towards the kitchen. "About time," said his mother and Grace in perfect unison. They even looked alike-red hair, green eyes just like Harry's own, and a very slight splatter of freckles across their noses.

"Well, if the idiots had _gotten out of my room_, I would have gotten out of there earlier!" snapped Harry, sitting down in his chair heavily.

His mother eyed him cautiously. "Harry, you're in a mood this morning," she commented, passing him a plate.

"Well…" said Harry, staring at his eggs. "No one ever listens to me, Mum! I'm eleven, I'm not stupid….and everyone still treats me like I'm about four! It's sickening!"

"Grace! Shut up!" said his mother irritably over her daughter's chants of _Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogwarts, I'm going to Hogwarts, Hogwarts_. "What, Harry dear?"

"I was just saying that-"

"GRACE MARIANNE POTTER, SHUT UP! I AM TRYING TO LISTEN!"

"Grace is in _trouble_," James sang, drawing outthe _uh_ sound for a few seconds.

"Naughty Grace," said Ben, smirking.

"You shut it!" screeched Grace, her face turning bright red.

"When did ickle Gracikins learn to talk?" taunted Ben

"Is she talking?" said James, mock-thoughtfully. "I really can't understand. C'mon, Grace, you can do it…_James. _C'mon, give it a try…maybe we should start with something easier, right,

Ben?_"_

With a startling crash, Grace threw herself across the table onto her brother. Sara screamed, jumping up so suddenly that her eggs slid onto her brand-new skirt, and James' flailing arm caught Ben, knocking him over and upsetting the whole table. The plates crashed onto the floor, and their mother started shrieking and ran over and pulled her youngest daughter off James, as Ben swore loudly, causing his father, who had just entered, to start in on James angrily.

"GRACE MARIANNE POTTER! STOP IT RIGHT NOW, D'YOU HEAR ME? YOU BROKE ALL THE DISHES AND HURT YOUR BROTHERS! AND WITH THE WAY THEY WERE ACTING, I'M NOT SURE WHAT ONE I'M MORE UPSET ABOUT!"

Half an hour later, a frazzled Lily and James Potter had finally gotten everyone quiet. The dishes were repaired and the table re-set, and Grace grudgingly apologized to James, Ben, and Sara, and James and Ben apologized to Grace.

It was after that, when Lily Potter sat down, that she noticed Harry was not there. More importantly, no one had noticed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Wizards and Diagon Alley**

"There's someone here for you, Virginia," said Leah.

"What?"

"I said there's someone _here_ for you, orphan girl," Leah repeated, scowling. "They're in Miss Royer's office. Maybe it's a long lost relative. Who knows, maybe your whore of a mother finally cleaned herself up, eh?" 

Ginny bit her tongue. Leah was simply repeating Minnie, she told herself, just to get her in trouble again. Even so, she couldn't resist a parting comment as she left. "I don't know, Leah," she said, frowning as if in deep thought. "I think I'd rather have no parents than a pair of drunkards like yours."

Ginny narrowly avoided the hired girl's slap and walked down the hallway. It wasn't one of her relatives, because she didn't have any; they would have shown up already. _Great,_ she thought, _it's probably Mr. McCourt._ Her schoolteacher wasn't a nice man, and he and Ginny had their arguments every once and a whileroughly once a day.

Ginny knocked on the door, waiting for Miss Royer's impersonal voice. "Come in, Virginia." 

The room was small and had shiny wood floors, a fact which Ginny knew from years of experience. Manual labor was worse than the punishment room. The walls were painted a dark maroon.

"Good afternoon, Miss Royer," Ginny said automatically. It wasn't really a good afternoon, and she wasn't happy to see Miss Royer, but she said it anyways. Miss Royer nodded at her slightly, and it was then that she noticed him.

The visitor was absurdly tall, even sitting down, and had a long white beard that grazed the floor when he was sitting. He had bright blue eyes and strange half-moon spectacles and was wearing a really ridiculous burnt umber suit.

"You're certainly not Mr. McCourt," Ginny said.

Miss Royer looked at her. "Why would Mr. McCourt be calling on you? Have you been in trouble in school? Virginia? Answer me!"

"I'm sure she's fine," said the visitor.

Miss Royer frowned from behind her desk. "I doubt it. Virginia has been known to cause trouble, something you'll surely want to know."

The visitor didn't reply and Miss Royer pursed her lips. "Virginia, this is Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of an exclusive private school. He wants you to attend." 

Ginny stared at him, wary of a trap. He looked nice enough, but he could be one of those kidnapping creeps. Maybe he'd lie and say he was bringing her to his school and actually make her work in the circus as a lion tamer, or maybe the girl who sat on the elephant. That'd be rather fun, she thought before jerking her mind back to the topic.

The man, Dumbledore, nodded in Miss Royer's direction. "Miss Weasley, your parents set up an account for you when you were born. It had taken all this time for us to track you down, but don't worryyou haven't missed anything. Our school begins at age eleven."

"What kind of school is it?" asked Ginny.

"It's a very special school," said Dumbledore, "for gifted children." He looked at Miss Royer. "Madame, may I please have a few minutes alone with Miss Weasley?"

Miss Royer frowned, weighing it in her mind. "It's private information that I can share with no one else," said Dumbledore solemnly. "It's about her parent's last wishes, and they can't be disclosed to anyone but Miss Weasley."

Miss Royer nodded and rose from her desk. "That is fine, I suppose. I'll be back in half an hour. Is that enough time?" 

Dumbledore agreed and Miss Royer left the room. Ginny looked at the man. "What do you want?" she demanded.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I wish for you to attend"

"That's a lie," she said. "I'm not anymore gifted than anyone else, and I don't believe you even knew my parents."

"Their names were Molly Prewett and Arthur Weasley," said Dumbledore. "Your mother had two brothers and your father had two as well. They met at Hogwarts, my school, and married shortly after graduating."

"I don't believe you," Ginny started to say, even though it was all she ever wanted, all she ever needed, to hear. Someone had been looking for her, someone knew her parents, her parents had loved her.

"You should read this first," said Dumbledore, withdrawing a thick envelope from inside his suit.

She took it. It was thick and cream colored, and the address was written in green ink: _Miss G. Weasley, Third Room to the Left, Second Floor, Saint Mary's Orphanage._

There was a thick packet of letter inside, written on very thick paper. The first was the shortest.

_Dear Miss Weasley,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Ginny read through the other letter, which was about the mentioned equipment: cauldrons, toads, wands, books with strange names. Then she looked at Dumbledore. "I don't believe you," she said again. "I don't know what this means."

"You're a witch, Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore gently. "You have magical blood."

Magic.

_She was five and Minnie had stolen her favorite marble._

"_You give that back, Minnie!" she shrieked, thinking of nothing but her prize, the marble she'd been given by her teacher two days ago for being the best speller in the whole class._

"_Make me," snarled the other girl, twice as fat and twice as mean, glaring down her shorter opponent._

_Ginny's bottom lip trembled slightly, and Minnie let out a great, jeering laugh. "Is the itty bitty baby going to cry?" she taunted, and she stretched out her hand, the marble lying in her palm, shiny and milky and white, and just as Ginny reached for it Minnie snatched it back. Ginny let out a scream and the next thing she knew Minnie was rolling around on the floor, shrieking in pain, and there was the smell of singed hair and smoke in the air, rising far above the playground…_

_She was seven and playing kickball, and it was her turn up to kick. She was horrible at kickball, she'd always been, but that time she had a burst of something__adrenaline?__and the ball flew clean over the fence…_

_She was ten and there was a pop quiz she hadn't studied for. Mrs. Andrews started to pass out the papers, and without warning they started to flutter, rising in the air as if stirred by a sudden breeze, dashing themselves against the fan, even though all the windows were closed…_

"Magic," said Ginny, and the taste of it was brilliant upon her tongue.

"James and Ben, stay together. Sara, what did you say?" 

"I'm shopping with Maggie Reynolds." 

"All right, go ahead. And the three of youI gave you the _exact_ amount, so don't think you can spend it on something else and then tell me you didn't get something because the prices on robes went up."

Harry watched the boys' faces fall. "Dammit," James muttered. 

Sara left to meet Maggie at Flourish and Blotts and the boys started off for the bookstore. Lily surveyed the area, and set off towards the cauldron shop, holding Harry's hand.

He shook her off. "Mum, I'm eleven, you don't need to be holding my hand!"

His mother looked at him and for a moment he felt bad. But then she rolled her eyes. "Eleven," she said. "They grow up so fast."

The way she said it didn't make him think she was agreeing with him.

They stopped at the bookstore next. Sara and her friend had already moved on, and the shop was almost empty. "Good thing we got here so early," their mother said brightly. "It's so easy shopping for the two of you, since you're in the same year. All right, let's see, Grace, give me the list…"

But they weren't the only people in the store. A man with long white hair was talking with the owner while a short redheaded girl stood next to him.

He turned around once he heard their voices. "Lily! What a surprise! Hello, Grace and Harry. How are you?" 

"I'm fine, thank you," said Grace.

"Good, thanks for asking," Harry said. _Surprise, my foot,_ he thought skeptically, watching the overly-innocent look in the old man's eyes.

His mother didn't notice. "It's always great to see you, Dumbledore." Her eyes darted to the redhead, who still hadn't turned around, and her face went white, her green eyes widening. "Dumbledore…"

Harry and Grace shared a look; another secret. Their parents had been part of a group dedicated to bringing down Voldemort during the war, called the Order of the Phoenix, and almost every time they met with an old friend, there would be a telling silence or a 'not in front of the children.'

"Yes," Dumbledore answered. "Miss Weasley, this is my good friend Lily Potter, and her children Harry and Grace."

The girl turned around. She had brown eyes and was wearing jeans and a sweater, and a thin lighting scar decorated her forehead.

"I'm Ginny," she said. "It's nice to meet you."

_It's the Girl-Who-Lived,_ thought Harry in amazement. Ginevra Weasley, the girl who brought down the Dark Lord, was standing right in front of him. And his motherhad she known where she was? She was acting strangely enough.

"It's nice to meet you too," said his mother. She glanced at Harry and Grace..

"It's good to meet you," said Harry.

"Yeah," Grace chimed in.

"It's Harry and Grace's first year at Hogwarts as well," said Lily. "Perhaps you could be, or at least they can show you around…"

"Thanks," said Ginny. She looked slightly suspicious.

"Well, Lily, we have to go get Miss Weasely her wand," said Dumbledore. "It was a pleasure to see you."

"Pleasure's mine," said Lily automatically.

As soon as they had left, Grace started to talk. "Oh my God, that was Ginevra Weasley! Mum, we just met Ginevra Weasley!"

"D'you think she's going to be in Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

His mother frowned at the both of them. "Stop it, the both of you. She's an ordinary person just like the two of you, and I doubt she even remembers itshe was only a year old. Besides you don't know if _you're_ going to be in Gryffindor."

Harry shrugged. "Mum, we've all been in Gryffindor."

"So what?" his mother said, and put her purse on the store counter. "We need two sets of first year books, please."

"Good thing you came right now," the storekeeper said. "We're running low on _A History Of Magic…_I'm training a new assistant and he didn't order the correct amount."

"I know," said Lily sympathetically. "We're training a new girl, and she's completely daft. It's always hard."

"It is," agreed the storekeeper. "That's thirty two Galleons, two Sickles, please."

Lily handed the money over. "Have a nice day," she said, and Shrunk the bags and placed them carefully in her pocket. "Next is Ollivander's…"

"Mum, did you know where Ginevra Weasley was?" Harry asked, trailing behind her. "Mum?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Lily said. "How would I know that?"

Grace and Harry shared a look behind their mother's back. They could think of a couple ways.

So far Ginny had bought her books, a wand, a cauldron, a set of glass phials, a telescope, a set of brass scales, gloves, a cloak, and three sets of black work robes, and there were only three things left. "I won't," she said. "That looks so stupid."

"It's a requirement," Madame Malkin said, frowning. "Now stop fidgeting for a moment."

Ginny stared at the full length mirror. She could deal with the robes and the other weird things, but the hat? Perched on her carroty hair, it looked like a bat being burned alive. "Do I have to wear this all the time?"

"Rarely," said the dressmaker. "There. Work robes, hat, and winter cloak. Done. Eighteen Galleons, twenty-five Knuts, please."

"Er…" 

Dumbledore entered the shop just on time and counted out the money. He was holding a large bird cage, and inside of it was an _owl._

He took the bag the cashier gave him and put it in the bag he'd given Ginny at the beginning of the trip. It was small and velvety, and you could put anything in it. So far she'd put all of her school supplies, and it was still lightweight and didn't bulge out at all, even when she put the telescope in. It was collapsible, but still large.

"Is that an owl?" she said, staring at it. The owl looked at her and hooted. "Oh, yes, aren't they like messenger pigeons?"

The owl hooted again and it sounded almost indignant. "Much more intelligent," said Dumbledore. "Also more reliable."

"What's it's name?" Ginny asked.

"I was thinking that you should decide that," said Dumbledore. "She's yours. On your list, it says you can bring an owl, a toad, or a cat. An owl is the best choice. Toads generally get eaten by the cats, and the cats get attacked by Mrs. Norris." 

"Mrs. Norris?" Ginny asked. "Actually, never mind. So she's really mine?" She looked at Dumbledore and remembered her manners. "Thank you, sir."

"It's no problem, Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore. "If you're finished here, we ought to purchase the last item on your list."

Ginny's eyes widened. "A wand!" It was the item she'd been looking forward to the most.

Ginny would've run to the store, if only she'd known where it was. She was thankful that Dumbledore, in spite of being old, had a sprightly, brisk pace.

The shop didn't look anything like what she'd pictured. It was the smallest and shabbiest shop she'd seen. The store windows were empty except for one wand on a pillow, and the windows were so dirty that you had to squint to see it.

The inside wasn't much better. It was small, and when they entered a little tinkling sound went off. There was only a chair inside, and stacks and stacks of skinny, rectangular boxes, all labeled. The labels said things like _hly cr. wrmwd. _and _brch cr. strg. _

Ginny shivered involuntarily. Dumbledore, besides her, seemed unaffected by the eerie atmosphere and waited almost expectantly.

A man appeared from the back of the shop. He was short with wide, silver eyes. "Ginevra Weasley," he said. "I've been expecting you."

"Er…" But Ollivander didn't seem to expect Ginny to answer.

"You have your mother's eyes, I see. I remember her. Molly Prewett, wand seven and a half inches, reed, core of ashwinder. Very powerful. And of course, your father. Eight inches, rowan wood, core of a hippogriff talon."

Ollivander got closer to Ginny, his silver eyes gleaming, and Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Good afternoon, Ollivander."

Ollivander blinked like it was the first time he'd seen him. "Albus Dumbledore! I was just an assistant here when your wand was sold. Twelve inches, oak, demisguise hair, excellent for Transfiguration. But that's not the same wand you use today, is it?"

Dumbledore, for once, looked like he didn't know what to say; Ollivander gave a short laugh. "I see. Ginevra, we'll have to measure you."

He produced a tape measure, which began to stretch along Ginny's arms by itself. When it was done, Ollivander gave her a small box. "Try this one, Miss Weasley, five inches, heartwood"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I have a feeling, Ollivander, about her wand."

Ollivander locked eyes with him. "Phoenix feather," he said. "Of course."

"Try this, Miss Weasley," he said, giving her another box. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches."

Ginny waved it, and a shower of sparks shot out the end. She shrieked and jumped back. "It it worked!" 

"Curious," said Olivander, "very curious."

"What's curious?" Ginny said, only half-listening, staring at her wand. It _worked._

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Weasley. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another featherjust one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brotherwhy, its brother gave you that scar."

Ginny met his pale gaze, drawing in her breath. Dumbledore had told her about Lord Voldemort and the attack on her parents, but it was somewhat different to hear about it like this.

"Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember…I think we must expect great things from you, Miss Weasley…after all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great thingsterrible, yes, but great."

"That's be all, Ollivander," Dumbledore said curtly. "Seven Galleons, correct?" 

Even twenty minutes later, when they were leaving, Ginny couldn't get the old man's words out of her head:_ great things. Terrible, but great._


	3. New Beginnings

-1**Chapter Three: New Beginnings**

Ginny trudged down the train corridor, dragging her trunk behind her. She hoped the next compartment would be empty, or at least filled with people who wouldn't stare so horribly.

As she passed the second to last compartment, she looked in and sighed with relief: it was the boy and the girl from Diagon Alley. Harry and Grace Potter.

Harry was standing up, facing an older redheaded girl Ginny didn't know. She had red hair and green eyes like Grace, but was wearing an ornate badge with a P on it on the front of her badge. "We don't need you nagging us, Sara."

"_Nagging!_" Sara said incredulously. "_Sorry_ for caring about you and checking up on you—"

"Oh, stop it," Harry snapped. "Mickey's not here anymore, he was just seeing if we knew where Corwood was."

Sara scowled and her cheeks flamed. "I'm not looking for Mickey."

"Then why are you blushing?" Grace asked.

"Brats," Sara snarled, and stalked out of the compartment, pushing Ginny aside as she went.

"Hello, Ginevra," said Grace. "Do you need help with your trunk?"

"It's Ginny," said Ginny. "And that'd be nice—I don't think I could lift it."

"There's a spell for that," said Harry, frowning. "I don't think we could do it, though."

"Then do it the old fashioned way," Grace said, and walked across to the compartment door. "Hey! Ben! _Ben_!"

A very handsome older boy poked his head out of a compartment a few doors down. "Do you have to yell so loud? Mum could probably hear you back home!"

"Ginny needs help with her trunk," Grace said.

The boy withdrew back into a compartment and another boy stuck his head out. "Grace, can't you do it by yourself?"

"I'm eleven, I can't use magic," Grace said. "And I _really _don't think Mum would appreciate you ignoring us like this…"

"_Fine,_" the boy said, rolling his eyes, and three boys emerged from the compartment. Ginny moved over inside the compartment so they'd all have room.

Two of the boys looked a lot like Harry. The first one, Ben, had brown hair and hazel eyes, and the second had black hair and green eyes. The third looked nothing like either of them.

"Ginny, these are my brother Ben and James and that's Mickey Black," Harry said.

Ben and Mickey said hello, but James just rolled his eyes and snapped at the others to help lift the damn trunk already. They finally got it, and were about to leave when Mickey Black looked at her in astonishment. "My God, you're Ginevra Weasley."

James turned around. "Holy shit," he said. "It is."

"I think it's a girl, James," said Ben dryly.

"She is. Whatever." James rolled his eyes.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Ginevra," said Mickey. "We should get back to our compartment."

"It's Ginny," said Ginny. "Nice to meet you too."

After the boys left, Ginny sat down next to Grace. "Is everyone going to be like that?" she asked.

"Probably," said Harry. "You're famous. Don't you know how awful You-Know-Who was? And you were the one who brought him down."

"I can't remember it," said Ginny. "I was, like, one."

"That's what my Mum said," said Grace.

Ginny seized the opening. "So it's you two, Ben, and James? And then your parents? Six, that's a big family."

Harry shook his head. "No, there are nine, counting Mum and Dad.."

"_Nine_?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Chris is twenty one and he's a Curse Breaker, and then Meggie is eighteen. She's an Unspeakable."

"What's that?" Ginny asked curiously. She'd never thought about what wizards did after school.

"That's what they call people who work in the Department of Mysteries. My Mum's the head of it," Harry said.

"What do they do there?"

Harry and Grace said in unison, "It's a mystery."

Ginny blinked. "No, seriously."

"Seriously," said Harry, "nobody knows. They're not allowed to tell anyone."

"Aren't you curious?" asked Ginny. She couldn't imagine living with someone every day who had such big secrets.

Harry shrugged. "Not really. She's been one my whole life, and after a while you just get used to it. She can't even tell my dad."

"So who are the rest of your brothers and sisters?"

Harry listed them off: James, a seventh year; Ben, a sixth year; Sara, a fifth year; and he, and Grace, first years. "It's not very fun," said Harry. "I mean, we're decently well-off, but Mum is always talking about economizing, so we've got hand-me-down clothes most of the time."

"We got hand-me-downs all the time at the orphanage," said Ginny. "Nasty."

"Orphanage?" said Harry, and Grace set him a look. "I mean—er…"

"It's fine," said Ginny, who really didn't want to talk about Saint Mary's.

"I wonder what House we'll be in," said Grace. "I'm hoping Ravenclaw. Sara says there's a fourth year who's also really interested in the Blibbering Fire Pixies."

"Blibbering—" Ginny started, but Harry caught her eye and shook his head very subtly.

Grace shrugged and started to hum under her breath, staring at the window. Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"It's Neville!" said Harry, opening the door. The boy entered and looked around.

"By God, is that—"

"Ginny, this is Neville Longbottom, Neville, this is Ginny Weasley," Grace interrupted.

"Thanks, Grace," said Neville, and he flopped into the seat next to Harry. Neville was a rather sturdy looking boy, stocky, with a cavalier air about him. He was well-dressed, and Ginny could tell his mother had meticulously made sure he was ready. Somehow, she didn't get this impression from Harry and Grace—while all three children were definitely loved, Neville seemed a bit pampered.

"So, Ginny," said Neville interestedly, peering at her, "Do you have a scar?"

Ginny frowned at him. "Yes," she said shortly. _I'm not a zoo exhibit_.

"Well…" Neville blew out a breath impatiently as she remained aloof. "Can I see it? C'mon, Gin…"

"Don't call me Gin," said Ginny coldly. "I am not an alcoholic beverage."

"All right…" said Neville slowly, looking at her like she was insane. "So, can I see it?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow in turn. Something about Neville—the polished shoes, the look in his eye, the sweater that was probably knitted by his mother—set her on edge. "You want to see the mark that Voldemort left on me when he murdered my parents in front of my eyes?"

Neville scowled. "You twisted my words," he said. "I don't know why you let her sit here, Harry—"

"Because she's my friend," said Harry, and then he turned to look at Ginny. "And Neville is my friend, too."

Ginny bit the inside of her cheek. _You idiot_, she scolded herself. _First friend you have and you almost blow it_. "I'm sorry," she said, and Harry turned to Neville.

"I'm sorry," muttered Neville. "I guess I shouldn't have asked…"

"Yeah, well," said Ginny uncomfortably, and then let her sentence trail off, having no idea what to say. An awkward silence ensued, which was broken by Grace, who was humming an odd tune; every now and then she'd start singing a few words and then lapse back into humming.

"I heard Malfoy talk about coming down here," said Neville darkly.

"He better not," Harry muttered, frowning immediately.

"Who's Malfoy?" asked Ginny, confused.

"Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear," Grace said gloomily.

Harry stood up at this, peering out the compartment window, and groaned. "Malfoy."

"Ginevra Weasley," said a smooth voice. "Well, well, well…."

Three boys were standing in the doorway, looking at her. The middle one, the one who had spoken, was probably the palest person she had ever seen, and his fine blonde hair was impeccably arranged. He seemed impervious to Harry and Neville's glares.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he said with the air of one announcing he was the emperor of the world. "I heard you were here…"

"Here I am," said Ginny, wondering why Harry, Neville, and Grace disliked him so much.

Draco didn't seem to take offense at Ginny's lack of enthusiasm. He looked over Neville, Grace, and Harry very slowly. "Oh, look, it's the resident M—"

"Don't you dare," Neville snarled, standing up.

Malfoy laughed. "Potters and a Longbottom," he said. "Not exactly good company. You'll soon find, Ginevra, that some families are better than others. You'll want to meet the right sorts. I can help you with that." He held out his hand.

Ginny gave him a slow, contemptuous once-over and folded her arms against her stomach, a trick Indira had taught her to make the older kids leave her alone. "I think I'll pass," she said coolly, and Draco Malfoy's gray eyes flashed.

"You—"

Harry glared at him. "Leave her alone, Malfoy! I can guess what _sorts_ your family would help her to meet…Death Eaters! Oh, wait; your family _are _a bunch of Death Eaters!"

What on Earth did Death Eater mean, Ginny wondered, glancing from Harry to Malfoy. Judging from the way Harry spat it, it wasn't good. Malfoy colored slightly. "Because the Potters are so great," he sneered derisively. "Interbreeding with filthy _Mudbloods,_ what's next, pigs?"

With a great roar, Harry hurled himself at Malfoy, and the two colossal thugs who were standing next to Malfoy were startled into action. One grabbed Harry and the other started punching him over and over again as the blond watched.

Neville joined in, and Ginny hesitated a moment before jumping on Malfoy's back, grabbing a fistful of whitish hair and yanking his head backwards. He spit in her eye, and she punched him in the nose. Blood was everywhere, and in the middle of this came a large noise as the two lackeys hit the wall.

Grace was standing opposite them, a wand in her hand and a furious look in her eye. "Don't you _dare_ hit my brother!" she hissed, pointing her wand at them. "Get out now!"

No sooner had they left than Harry and Grace's other sibling, Sara, entered. "Were you four fighting?" she demanded furiously. "We could hear you three compartments down, for God's sakes! What's wrong with you, you're not even there yet! A week's detention for all of you!"

"We haven't even been Sorted yet, you can't do that!" protested Harry defiantly, glaring at his sister behind his swollen left eye.

"Oh yes I can!" said Sara smugly. "I'm a prefect this year!"

"Really?" Harry said. "I didn't even notice."

Sara glared at him. "Shut up, Harry. Change into your robes by the way; we'll be there in about five minutes." And she turned smartly on her heel and exited the compartment, ready to find some other hapless first year to scold.

"Any of you know any cleaning spells?" asked Ginny, looking around at the four of them. Ginny's hair had come messily undone from its ponytail, her lip was bleeding, she had a few scratches, and the whole front of her robes—because unfortunately, only she, out of the four of them, had already changed—was stained with Malfoy's blood. Neville had gotten off rather easily, with only a swollen lip. Grace didn't have a scratch on her, but Harry looked every bit as dreadful as Ginny.

"Yeah," said Neville. "My mom uses one, I think…Lemme try—_scourgify! Scourgify! Scourgify!" _Tiny bubbles appeared on her robes, soap suds, but the blood didn't leave, and the suds vanished a minute later, leaving Ginny's robes just as bloody and twice as wet.

"I think that's the one my mum uses," said Neville. "Harry, do you remember?"

"Elily-Epiffen-Epiffiley—I dunno," said Harry, running a hand through his hair.

"Don't worry," said Grace cheerfully.. "We can just fall in the lake and get clean."

"Thanks for the suggestion, but I think I'll pass," said Neville dryly, exchanging a look with Ginny, and she laughed. Maybe Neville wasn't as bad as she thought.

"We're there, get ready!" bellowed a prefect from outside loudly.

_Hogwarts_, thought Ginny in amazement. _I'm at Hogwarts._

And with that, they took their luggage and disembarked the train, and stepped out into the night, pitch-black except for the light of stars, and the far-off gleam of a castle.


	4. Not Quite Wonderland

**Chapter Five: Not Quite Wonderland**

"**...Your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."**

**-Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone**

They say that first impressions stay with you forever.

Ginny hoped this wasn't true in her Headmistress' case.

"Never in all my years here, have I ever—_dueling! _Muggle dueling! I would have thought you all had better sense than that!" she said, and Ginny took note of how her nostrils flared when she was especially furious. She kept flaying them for a few more minutes until she ceased with a final sharp remark: "You wanted to duel, you can stay like that, Malfoy! And _no_, Longbottom, I don't care how disgusting your robes are!"

Malfoy and Neville groaned, and Ginny was sure they were both thinking the same thing: _when my parents hear about this…_ The Deputy Headmistress ignored both of them and continued speaking. "You are shortly to be Sorted," she told them. "There are four different Houses, each as noble as the rest. You can gain or lose House points, and the house with the most points at the end of the year wins the House Cup, which is a great honor. Finally, the Sorting Ceremony is due to start any moment now. I will come back when I am ready. Wait quietly…and if I hear of any more misbehavior, I will be adding more detentions to the three weeks the seven of you have already earned yourselves! "

McGonagall swept out of the room impressively. Even though Ginny hated wizard's robes, she did have to admire the dramatic effect one could use them for.

"That was a short speech," said a girl. "Professor McGonagall probably had to cut it short because she was too busy scolding _them_."

A girl who looked exactly like the first shrugged. "It's worth it," she said. "I heard you beat up Malfoy."

Twin Number Two glanced over at where Malfoy and a few other boys had congregated. When he caught them staring, he gave them a filthy look. "Parvati," said the first twin, pulling on her sister's sleeve, "don't stare, that's rude."

Parvati ripped her sleeve away. "You're not my mother, so shut up," she said. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment that McGonagall swept back in.

"Miss Patil, please keep your comments to yourself. I will see the seven of you involved in the fight directly after the Welcoming Feast in the Headmaster's office; I will have one of the prefects escort you." Across from her, she could hear Harry groan, and mutter, 'Please not my sister'. McGonagall ignored him. "Now, line up and make yourself as tidy as possible. The Ceremony is about to begin."

As they lined up, Grace, Neville, Harry, and Ginny gravitated towards the back of the line, where Harry and Ginny entertained themselves by making faces at the nasty Patil twin behind her back. In spite of her clowning around, her mind was kicking into overdrive.

_What if I can't be Sorted? What do we have to do? What if I fail? What if I fail in front of the whole school and everyone else makes it, and then I have to go back to the orphanage—_

Before Ginny could say 'magic' they were led into the Hall, and she knew immediately that she could never, not even in her wildest dreams, have dreamt of anything as magnificent as this. The walls stretched on, seemingly endless, and there was enough room to fit more than a thousand people comfortably. All over plates, forks, and knives glittered gold. Millions of tiny candles hovered above the long tables, and occasionally one would bob down, almost setting an unsuspecting student's sleeve on fire. Ghosts drifted in and out of the walls, shimmering blobs of light, and students called out to them. A group of children were currently exhorting one to 'take his head off.'

There were five long tables, and one of them was at the front of the Hall, where the teachers sat. The other tables were filled with students, and when the First Years entered, a sea of candlelit faces turned up to see them.

McGonagall paused and the Hall went quiet with anticipation. Ginny, however, was fighting to keep her panic under control as she realized that most of these people were looking at her. They were going to watch her be Sorted—what if she failed in front of all these people? She started biting her nails and stopped when Harry nudged her.

Ginny swallowed, and very softly, she asked, "How are we going to be Sorted?"

"I don't know," said Harry, and Ginny was slightly relieved to see that he looked nervous, too. He also didn't bother to lower his voice, causing McGonagall to glare at him as it rang out in the dead silence. A small ripple of laughter ensued, but a glare from McGonagall silenced them. Ginny looked up at the teacher's table, and in the middle sat Albus Dumbledore, eyes twinkling, and she could have sworn he winked at her.

Silently and stiffly Professor McGonagall walked over to the front of the Hall, where she put a stool on the stone floor. Ginny hadn't noticed McGonagall retrieve it, and didn't have the faintest clue as to where she had gotten it from. She thought it looked rather rickety, and she doubted it could even support the dilapidated, patched wizard's hat that was placed on it.

Her mind was whirling. What did they have to do to the Hat? Bewitch it, maybe? Pull a rabbit out of it? Something, surely, because everyone else seemed to be staring at it, although she couldn't imagine why—

And then to her astonishment the Hat's brim opened into a huge, gaping hole and it _sang _. It didn't have that good of a voice, either, thought Ginny, forgetting her worries for a minute, until she heard part of the song.

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see…_

_Nothing? _thought Ginny, in a panic. What had she done wrong lately? And on the heels of this came another awful thought; what if she was too bad for Hogwarts? What if the Hat said, "There's been a mistake; this one's horrible, send her back"?

McGonagall stepped forward and told them that all they had to do was put on the hat, and she pulled a long piece of oddly thick paper and started reading names off of it, and the students were hurrying up to the stool.

For some, it only took a second or so. Some, it took longer, almost a minute, like for Seamus Finnegan.

The first one of their group to be called up was Neville, and he almost tripped over his own feet going up there. The Hat barely deliberated before shouting out "GRYFFINDOR!". Ben, James, Mickey started cheering loudly.

Malfoy was two after him, and to Ginny's surprise the Hat didn't decide immediately, but instead took a few seconds. Not long enough to be remarked upon, but Ginny could see the pale boy's face going even paler before it shouted out, "SLYTHERIN!"

The Patils were split up—the snotty one was in Ravenclaw, and Parvati was placed in Gryffindor.

And then, two later—

"POTTER, GRACE!"

Grace pushed her red hair out of her eyes and coolly and confidently strode up to the stool, placing the Hat on her head and facing the Hall with an unreadable expression. It took a long time with Grace, before settling on—

"RAVENCLAW!"

As Grace walked off, Harry tensed as his name was called. "Good luck," Ginny whispered, watching her friend go.

Harry was so small the Hat slipped over his head, preventing her from seeing his expression. It took a long time with Harry. Finally, it announced in a grimly triumphant tone:

"SLYTHERIN!"

She could hear Harry's brothers and sister going crazy at the Gryffindor table, some cheering and some outraged, and wondered how his parents would react, seeing how all his family was in Gryffindor except Grace—he shot her a look that she couldn't decipher as he passed—there weren't that many left—"Thomas, Dean," a Gryffindor—"Turpin, Lisa," who became a Ravenclaw—and finally, at last—

"WEASLEY, GINEVRA!"

"_Ginevra_ Weasley?"

"Weasley, are you sure—are you sure she said Weasley?"

"That's her, I swear it's her, didn't both of her parents have red hair?"

The walk seemed impossibly long. The whispers became a roar, and Ginny walked faster until she reached the stool. The hat slid right over her nose.

_Interesting_, crooned a voice in her ear, and Ginny flinched_. Difficult, but I always liked a challenge. A desperate need to prove yourself_—_a large amount of stubbornness_—_not a bad mind either. Talent_—_oh my goodness_—_yes. Yet you seek knowledge only to use it, and you are loyal to only those you consider worthy. Gryffindor or Slytherin._

_I want to be with my friend, _thought Ginny. _Put me in Slytherin._

_A good fit, a good fit—look at all that cunning, girl…look at all that sheer determination! The ruthlessness! Tell me, what do you desire most in life?_

Ginny hesitated a bit. _To be someone, _was the thought that crossed her mind first. _To show everyone I can measure up to the Girl-Who-Lived_. She quickly dismissed it, and the Hat gave a little chuckle.

_I can read your mind, remember_? it chided, and then announced its decision to the Hall:

"SLYTHERIN!"

—————

When Ginny took off the Hat, rather pleased, there was a deafening silence in the Hall, and as she walked to her table, the roar began again.

When she reached the table, Harry pushed a second-year blond girl aside and patted the newly vacated seat, which Ginny graciously accepted.

Ginny waited until Dumbledore concluded his speech and food appeared before asking Harry a question. "Why did your oldest brother look so upset? Because you aren't in the same House?"

Harry snorted. "Hardly. He didn't care that Grace was in Ravenclaw. He just cares because I'm in Slytherin."

An older boy sitting across from her rolled his eyes. "That's because we're _the bad House_," he said. "And the Potters are a bunch of Mudblood loving blood traitors."

"You say that word again and I'll kill you," Harry snapped.

"It's true," the boy said back.

Harry started to cut up his food. "Rather be a Muggle lover than a Death Eater wannabe with a father in prison, Esclamort. But maybe that's just me."

"You son of a—" the older boy started, but an older girl sitting farther down stopped him.

"Don't start something you'll regret, Julius," she said calmly. "Attacking a first year with a rather influential family in public would certainly be a mistake, wouldn't it? Besides, we already _do_ have to have words with our newest Housemates. _All_ of them," she added, looking at Malfoy, whose smirk faded rapidly. "Has noticed that due to this fight, we will be losing House points?"

"You stupid first years," an older Slytherin snapped. "Do you _want_ Gryffindor to win the damn House cup?"

"That's enough," the girl said sharply. "We'll wait until we get into the Common Room, do you understand?"

Even though the girl wasn't wearing a Prefect badge, everyone obeyed her. Nobody really spoke for the rest of the meal.

Ginny glanced around at her Housemates. There were those words again, Mudblood and Death Eater and mentions of family rivalry and House dislike and _blood traitors._ She didn't like the sound of it. Somehow she had thought that she would enter this world and it would be perfectly lovely. She hadn't counted on people being just as rude and ignorant.

Everyone was relieved when Dumbledore called for the school song. When they were done, he smiled and dismissed them. McGonagall came over to the Slytherin table and told them that Sara Potter would be escorting them.

Once she left, Esclamort snorted. "Who's the bigger bitch, Sara Potter or McGonagall?"

"McGonagall," said his friend. "Even if she is a know-it-all blood traitor, I'd still do—"

Ginny stood up and yanked Harry away from the table, where he seemed ready to kill both of them. "He was saying stuff about my sister!" Harry said furiously.

"Well, we'll have to get used to it," Ginny said grimly. "They don't seem to hold your family in high esteem. It's not like we can fight them or anything."

"Yet," said Harry darkly.

Sara had already rounded up Grace and Neville, and she was busy haranguing her younger sister.

"You just _wait _until Mum and Dad hears about this, they'll be furious, I can't _believe_ you—"

"Aren't you supposed to show us to the Headmaster's office, or are you just going to insult Grace for the next hour or so?" asked Ginny witheringly, and Harry snorted.

Sara's eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth, Miss Weasley, or you'll earn yourself a detention! Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle—over here!"

Sara walked quickly, about twelve steps ahead of them at all times, and Malfoy and his lackeys chose to stay up there with her. They walked along mostly in silence before Ginny nudged Harry. "So what's all that stuff they were talking about?"

"That word that Malfoy said is a nasty word for Muggleborns. The pureblood families—well, most of them—don't think that Muggleborns are as good as them. They don't think they're true wizards."

"Are you a pureblood?" Ginny asked curiously. "Am I?"

"I'm a half-blood," Harry explained. "My mum's Muggleborn. Your dad was a Weasley though, and they're mostly pureblood, but they marry Muggleborns and sometimes even Muggles, just like your mum's family and my dad's. So that's why our families are considered blood traitors, because we aren't a bunch of nasty inbred bigots."

"That's incredibly stupid," said Ginny.

"It's a fact of life," Neville said, serious for once. "A lot of people are working to change it, but this is a thousand year system."

Ginny frowned and decided to go to her next question. "What's a Death Eater?"

"That's what Voldemort's followers called themselves," Harry explained. "Sorry, Nev, You-Know-Who."

"Oh," Ginny said. Dumbledore had briefly outlined Voldemort's fall and talked about the war, but he had never gone this in-depth. He had explained, however, how many people preferred to call him You-Know-Who, which Ginny thought was kind of stupid. It wasn't like saying his name was going to bring him back.

"And most Death Eaters and even You-Know-Who himself," Neville said, "were in Slytherin. It's an evil House. I'm sure you guys can be re-sorted, if you ask. It's probably a mistake. The Hat's got to be senile by now. I'd ask Dumbledore during the meeting today."

"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard," Harry said. "There's nothing wrong with being in Slytherin!"

Neville looked at him. "Aside from the high number of Death Eaters?"

"Not anymore," said Harry. "And if there are, I bet by being there, we'll change some minds."

"I'm sure your father will see it that way," Neville said darkly.

Harry had nothing to say and merely stood there, his mouth slightly open in shock that Neville would stoop so low. It was Grace who came to the rescue. "Shut up, Neville, before I make you."

Neville scowled and marched ahead with Sara, and Harry looked furious. "Bloody _idiot_," he hissed. "I can't believe him…"

"Most people are going to think about it like him, aren't they?" said Ginny, sighing.

"Do you care?"

"Not particularly," said Ginny, and then they were there. There was no door, just two stone gargoyles who opened their mouths and croaked: "Password?"

"Mars Bars," said Sara impatiently, and a door appeared. "Go in," she told them, frowning. "No, I'm not going with you—I'm waiting outside. _Go,_ already."

Ginny looked at the door, and impulsively grabbed Harry's hand. He stiffened a little, but didn't let go, and together, they marched up to the door and knocked.

___________

**  
**When they entered four adults were already in the room, all talking quietly, and they stopped when the children entered. Ginny smiled tentatively at the Headmaster, and he met her gaze but did not smile back. She only recognized one other person, the stern Deputy Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, who was looking rather pointedly at their hands; Harry flushed slightly and dropped Ginny's hand.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, poking her friend in the side, "Who's that?"

"The short one's Flitwick—Head of Ravenclaw, and the other's Meadows. He's the Head of Slytherin," muttered Harry in a very low voice.

Albus Dumbledore looked at them very solemnly, and then, with a flick of his wand, six comfy chairs appeared. One of them materialized precariously close to where Malfoy had been standing a moment before, and with a squeak of fright, he jumped back.

"Please sit," said Dumbledore, himself sitting behind a desk, taking no notice of Malfoy's reaction even as Ginny and Harry sniggered. All seven took their seats.

The Headmaster peered over his half-moon glasses at them. "I trust you know why you are here?"

"Yes, sir," said Ginny, the words coming out the same as they once had with Miss Royer. She was the only one to answer; the others simply nodded. She blushed and Malfoy smirked.

"Well, then why _are_ you here?" asked Dumbledore.

She hadn't thought he'd make her _answer_. He knew, of course, they'd gotten in a fight. And then it occurred to her: by speaking first, she could put her own impression on it first. "Malfoy called Harry's mum a Mudblood," she said.

The word had its desired effect; McGonagall's eyebrows shot up into her hairline, Flitwick gave a little squeak and Dumbledore frowned, looking at Malfoy. "Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?" he said quietly.

"Well, I—no," he protested weakly, losing his resistance as Dumbledore's gaze bored into him. "I—well…no, I mean…maybe…"

"I see," said Dumbledore, sounding slightly sad. "Mr. Malfoy, we do not use offensive and rude terms like that at Hogwarts. Now, what's the rest of the story?"

"Sara Potter said they were brawling," said McGonagall. "Apparently she could hear them compartments away."

Harry scowled and slouched a bit lower in his seat. Dumbledore looked at him. "Who started the fight, physically, Harry?"

"I did," said Harry defiantly, raising his chin. "But he deserved it, and I'm not sorry."

Dumbledore nodded as if Harry had described the weather. "I see. Describe the fight, Miss Potter."

Grace blinked at him, caught unaware; Ginny doubted she had heard a single word they had said. Perhaps that was why Dumbledore had chosen her. "The fight," she said, as if reminding herself. "The fight…Harry hit Malfoy, and the big ones hit Harry, and Ginny jumped on Malfoy, and Neville helped Harry, and then I knocked them across the room," said Grace, matching Dumbledore's calm tone.

"I see," said Dumbledore again, and frowned, surveying all of them. "Let me make this clear: fighting is not tolerated here. I will not warn you again. The next time will have much more severe consequences. As for the punishments, I think I will decide them just this once—Minerva? Filius? Aguila?"

All three nodded slightly, giving consent, and Dumbledore continued. "Mr. Potter, as you started the fight you will serve two weeks of detention, and ten points will be subtracted from your House."

"But, sir, we haven't even _got _any—" protested Harry.

"Then you will be negative ten," said Dumbledore sharply. "Mr. Malfoy, you will also serve two weeks and have ten points deducted for provoking Mr. Potter and using a foul term.

"Miss Weasley, Miss Potter, Mr. Goyle, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Longbottom, you will each serve a week and have five points deducted, as you were helping a friend. It would, however, be less violent to simply alert a Prefect.

"Now your respective Heads of Houses will lead you back to your Common Rooms. I do hope not to see you in these circumstances again this year."

Ginny got up and walked over to Meadows, remembering what the girl had said, and Ginny pictured how angry she was going to be. They had just lost Slytherin thirty five points. As if Harry was echoing her thoughts, he said, "We are in such deep shi—"

"_Potter!"_  
_  
_"Sorry, Professor."

McGonagall frowned. "I _will_ be telling your mother about this, Potter," she said sharply as she began to usher Neville out of the room.

Meadows frowned. "Come," he said simply, and they followed, Harry making faces at him the whole way. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle hastened to walk ahead with him.

Ginny thought of ways to get even all the way there.

——

"This is _ugly_," said Ginny, wrinkling her nose as she looked around the Slytherin common room.

The ceiling was incredibly low, and many of the taller seventh years could barely make it without scraping their head. The ceiling itself was dark and made of rough stone, and Ginny thought she saw mold growing on it. There were four chairs, all elaborately carved, with a silken green cushion on each of them. The rest of the room was filled with couches that wore more like long, hard benched.

The room was lit with a sickly green light, and Ginny looked around for the lamps—

"Are those _chains?_" she said, pointing at the offending moldy articles, dangling from the ceilings.

"Yes, Weasley," said Meadows. "Those are chains."

Harry snorted. "I wonder what those are for," he said, snorting again, and Meadows turned a full blown glare at him, even as some of the students in the common room laughed.

"Sorry," muttered Harry to Meadows. "Er…I mean….sorry, sir."

Ginny looked around the common room and sighed. "Well, this sucks."

"We should have been Sorted into Gryffindor…the chairs are much comfier," said Harry, and Meadows heaved a great, aggravated sigh from in front of them.

"Slytherins!" said Meadows loudly, and the few students who weren't finished packing hurried down the stairs as quickly as they could, nearly tripping over their robes in their haste. Ginny sneered a bit; she wouldn't jump like that for anybody. Meadows cleared his throat and continued. "Due to an incident involving these seven first years, Slytherin House is currently negative thirty five House points—" He raised his hand as angry shouts became louder and louder, gesturing for them to calm down. "And your _excellent _new House mates are here to explain it. If you'll excuse me…"

Ginny whirled around in time to watch the man exit. "What!" she asked incredulously, but he had already gone, and the whole Slytherin House was now watching them intently.

"Well," said Ginny, trying to stall, "it was like this…"

It was rather hard to think, discovered Ginny, when a whole roomful of people were staring at you. She fidgeted slightly, noticing people staring at her forehead—her scar—and instead of covering it up with her fringe, she pushed her hair out of the way. Let them stare.

"I think Malfoy should tell it," Harry said suddenly. "After all, he's the mastermind of this, you know…"

Ginny raised her eyebrows, impressed, as the House diverted its attention to Malfoy, who was now looking positively uncomfortable. "They picked a fight," he spat finally, sneering at the two. "And the idiot Headmaster deducted points for Crabbe, and Goyle and I as well—"

"That's a load of crap, Malfoy!" Harry said. "You insulted my mother and my sister, and then I—"

"You attacked me!" yelled Malfoy.

"You deserved it, you dirty no-good piece of—" Ginny shouted, stepping towards him as well, when the girl from the feast interrupted her.

"The squabbling of first years does not concern us," she said harshly. "How many points did you lose us? Did you actually lose thirty five?"

"Yes," said Ginny, meeting the older girl's eyes.

"That's unacceptable," said the girl. "This will not happen again."

Ginny narrowed her eyes in turn. Sometimes it was better to act meek, but Ginny instinctively knew this was one girl who wouldn't buy the 'so-sorry' act. There was something about this girl that rubbed her the wrong way, like Neville but a million times worse. "I don't know that for sure," she said finally, equally as frosty.

"Look, you little Mudblood lover—" said another first year Slytherin. Parkinson, Ginny remembered.

"You shut up!" said Harry furiously. "You can just shut up, d'you hear me?"

"Pansy, _do _shut up. As for you two…we are looking forward to seeing what quality you are, especially you, Ginevra," she said. "But I cannot allow my House to lose so many points. All of you will be _extremely_ careful in the future."

This sounded like a threat.

"Cool it, Zabini," said a thin, lanky boy who was lounging in one of the couches. He pushed his dark brown hair out of his face. "Thirty five points….we'll make it up in two Potions classes."

There was some laughter at this comment, but the older girl scowled. "Theodore, I'm trying to preserve our House—"

"Keira, I couldn't care less," said the boy coolly, not bothering to sit up, but just propping himself up on his elbows instead.

Keira frowned. "Theodore—"

"Keira—"

"Nott, stop it!"

"Look, you can rhyme," taunted the boy. "D'you know your alphabet as well?"

Keira shot him a look of disdain and swept up the stairs in a huff, and the crowd dispersed. Ginny and Harry made their way over to Theodore Nott.

"Thanks for sticking up for us," said Harry awkwardly.

The boy shrugged. "Don't get used to it," he said detachedly, as he unfolded his legs and got up, heading towards a staircase. "Girl's dorm is that way, boy's is that way," he said, pointing in the corresponding direction. "Each is the first door to the right."

"Thanks," Ginny called after him, and then looked at the girl's staircase hesitantly. "Can you…?"

"Nah," said Harry. "My brothers told me if a guy goes on the girl's staircase, it turns into a slide."

"Wonder how your brothers found that out," said Ginny cheekily, and then went up the stairs to her dorm room.

———

As Ginny walked up to her dorm, she could hear the girls inside talking.

"Can't believe Keira let them off so easily."

"It's only because she's the Girl-Who-Lived."

"You two are idiots," said a third voice. "She's not letting them off easy. She's making sure that she's still in control while trying to be on decent terms with them. She doesn't _like_ them, but they could be useful."

"Come on, Daphne," said the first voice. "A blood traitor and the girl who defeated the Dark Lord, useful?"

"Parkinson, there's no need to display your ignorance any more than you already do," said Daphne Greengrass. "The Potters are a bunch of Mudblood lovers, but they are powerful. And if Ginevra Weasley defeated the Dark Lord, she's obviously powerful. My father says that some think Ginevra might _be_ the Dark Lord, and he took over her body that night."

"That's all kinds of stupid," said Parkinson. "Why would he choose a stupid baby to take over? And if she _was_ the Dark Lord, why would she be friends with a Mudblood lover?"

"I already _explained _that," Daphne said. "How stupid are you?"

Ginny stood outside the door for a moment more before entering.

"Blood traitor," Parkinson greeted. "I don't care what Keira says, you're a stupid cow. Losing that many House points, and all for provoking Malfoy!"

"Yes, I should have just sat there and listened while he spewed his bigotry and attacked my friends," Ginny said, scanning the room. The girls were each unpacking their things. The only empty bed was the one farthest away from the door, and her trunk was right next to it.

"Bigotry," said Parkinson. "It's the truth."

"If you're right, then how come you lost the war?" Ginny asked as she started to unpack her things. "Don't strain yourself, Parkinson, I don't want you to kill those few brain cells you actually have. Inbreeding does awful things, doesn't it?"

Parkinson tried to say something, but Greengrass stopped her. The girls unpacked their trunks in silence. Ginny finished first and left the room quickly, going to find Harry.

As she walked away, she could hear Parkinson's voice from behind the door: "I don't care what you say, she's not the Dark Lord."

"You disgust me, Parkinson," Daphne replied.


End file.
